


Before the World Wakes

by Bees_and_Ink



Series: Like Real People Do [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Emotions, Established Relationship, F/M, Mentioned Setleth babies, Morning Sex, My Byleth is usually a thirsty thot so I wanted to try something different, My kinks are morning cuddles and emotions, Setleth, Thalia is just my Byleth’s name, Vaginal Fingering, Waaaay post-game, ily cal, no beta we die like Glenn, reference to Under Your Skin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25777339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bees_and_Ink/pseuds/Bees_and_Ink
Summary: “If you let me be your skyline, I’ll let you be the wave that reduces me to rubble that looked safe from faraway.”
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Seteth
Series: Like Real People Do [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1461109
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Before the World Wakes

The morning is still. Silent. Serene.

Dawn has yet to disturb the chill, the world still bathed in darkness, sleeping under the dew and the stars.

All except Thalia and her husband, naturally. Thalia is _very_ much awake, and she can feel pressed diligently to her thigh how her husband is as well, though the focus is entirely on her for now.

Soft sounds of pleasure underscored by the endless rock of the waves are shushed by his kisses, this morning just one example of that eternal devotion one couldn’t help but fall hopelessly in love with. It is difficult to keep quiet, as she’s learned to express herself — including her pleasure — over the years, but there are slumbering saintlings nearby, and their home at present has the thin walls of a cottage; to wake one is to wake all of their resident brood, and no one wants that this early. This is the quiet time, the sweet solitude shared by mates before the day begins, and it is precious to both of them. That knowledge does not make the task any less Herculean, however, parted wet lips hovering over his own as they regain breath. She gazes into those brilliant emerald eyes, finding them incandescent in the lowlight. Pushing his hair back to unveil one pointed ear, she kisses him again, slow, unwavering like the pull of the tide. The waves continue to crash in the distance.

His hand pauses in the way it has been rubbing within her smallclothes, though he does not leave her waiting long enough for her to be confused. Expertly, he parts another pair of lips, taking his sweet time to take her apart as one finger simply swipes between, accumulating moisture to gauge if she‘s ready or not. He can’t help the quiet sound he makes at the discovery of _just_ how wet she is, somewhere between a hum and a groan, and his lips curve into a smile. She can feel it while he’s kissing her; he doesn’t need to say a single word for her to know just what he’s thinking. The damned beautiful bastard. 

Even still, Thalia can’t find it in herself to be too terribly upset by his effortless charm because something about it all reminds Thalia of the first time they did this, waxing sentimentality as she recalls the first time he took care of her after her father had died. When he had held her all night and brought her breakfast the next morning. When he had laid alongside her to keenly watch every subtle emotion that flickered over her face whilst he brought her to her peak. The first time she realized she was in love with him, that she could rely on him to take care of her not as some broken thing without a heartbeat, but as a person, as an equal.

Right before fate had snatched them away from each other for five years. 

Thankfully, it had fated for them to meet again, however, and she couldn’t bear the thought of being torn from him. 

Especially not now, her hips rocking against his fingers, telegraphing her pleasure while her voice cannot. She whimpers when he starts pressing more insistently into her, humming at the wet sound as his long fingers curl, hooking up into a spot that leaves her gasping and hoarse without a single cry. Thalia’s mouth opens into one as gossamer stars blur her vision, but only the softest of whines leaves her, hands curling into fists against the fabric of his blouse for _something_ to ground her. Her thighs quake as she grows closer and closer, his expert attention getting to be too much to simply endure as he grinds the heel of his palm against her swollen clit in tandem with his fingers dipping inside her. Even if they hadn’t been together for... Sothis knows how many years, now, it would have been obvious in the way she is squirming for him that she’s getting close, though he is more honed in on her subtler tells: the desperate tilt of her brow, the hazy look in her eyes, the way she softly makes a mantra of his name like he is the answer to all of her prayers. He’s had countless names over the lifetimes that span his own, but the power of the need in her voice as she whispers the one that means the most to her is enough to make him shudder.

It’s times like these where they’re close enough to share breaths, thoughts, _love_ , that truly make a wreck of her.

They make her feel like a castaway standing amongst the wreckage of his lost vessel alone on the beach, toes curled into the wet sand, hair pulled by the salty ocean breeze... but somehow in the best way possible. Because in the lost empty vastness, there is salvation in the form of a beating heart, in eyes of sea glass weathered smooth with the sands of time, in a strong shoulder to lean on, and a hand to help pull her free. Life had been so dull before Sothis had granted her the ability to truly live, to feel the span of emotions from the darkest sorrows to the brightest joys, and her beloved, all on his own, inspired some of those strongest emotions. Ones that she still sometimes has trouble sorting through because of just how _much_ there is. Emotions are hard, but there is one thing Thalia knows without a doubt.

“ _I love you._ ”

Overwhelmed, tears blur her vision further as she chokes down into the carved ridge of his clavicles, her breathing irreparably shallow. He uses his free hand to lift her head back up to look at him, concern flitting for a heartbeat in those green eyes and causing his brow to furrow, his movements to stop entirely, before the realization visibly dawns on him.

“ _I love you so fucking much, Settie-Bear._ ”

His expression at her quiet hiccup _melts_ , and Thalia is graced with such an aching look of tender affection and devotion and so much _love_ that she careens off of the edge with a soft sob. He looks at her like she is the most beautiful thing that he has ever seen, and to be looked at like that by a creature as ancient as he is, who has seen and experienced so much in his long life... well. Thalia is no wordsmith, but she’s confident that there are no words.

Cichol, Seteth, Cian is there for her, of course, as he always is to provide his unwavering support when she is shaking and boneless in his arms, muscles tensing before going lax entirely. As she shivers through the aftershocks, he kisses her sweaty, flushed face, her tears, and the tacky sea-green locks plastered to her forehead, all whilst murmuring his words of praise and adoration. At first, she can’t understand between her wide grin — as she laughs softly in spite of herself — and the buzz of bliss, but she’s always likened his voice to music. Be it the bold command of the brass or the mellow cadence of the harp, the lilt of his familiar tenor has always been a comfort to her.

The world is quiet once again as she finds her breath, though Thalia thinks she hears the distant coo of a dove out in the garden, and she smiles because it makes her think of Garreg Mach. The sky is beginning to lighten from black to blue, and the world around them slowly wakes to the sounds of the insects and the birds and the waves. Always the waves. For now, though, baby dragons continue to slumber, so the pair take what they are given, drowsing in one another’s arms for just a little while longer.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been wanting to add another contribution to the Setleth tag for awhile, but muse just wasn’t having it. This has been swirling around my mind for awhile though. Happy one year anniversary, Three Houses, and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> You can find me on Twitter @beesandink!


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